The Handkerchief
by silverdagger10
Summary: Draco had been watching Hermione cry on the stairs and leaves a little piece of fabric. A few days later, she confronts him about it. One-shot, 4th Year, Dramione.


**Pairing: Draco Malfoy & Hermione Granger  
Setting: The Yule Ball – 4****th**** Year – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
Notes: One-shot based on a little graphic I found. **

The Handkerchief

"You shouldn't be sitting on the stairs. You're in my way." a voice drawled behind Hermione, who was now startled.

"I'm so sorr—Malfoy!" she exclaimed, her eyes widened at the blond who had just spoken to her. Malfoy's lips curled into his infamous smirk as he looked down at the witch who had been weeping – and was now looking at him warily. He descended a couple of steps to stand near enough, his hands hidden in the pockets of his dress robes, and his smirk plastered on his face.

"What's the matter, did Krum finally come to his senses and decide to ditch the Mudblood?" Malfoy asked cockily, raising a mocking brow and tilting his head to the side.

Hermione narrowed her eyes angrily at the vile term and the words of the arrogant blond, and clenched her fists to control her temper. She had recently fought with Ron about Viktor, she didn't need anyone else's opinion about him.

"Not that it's any of your business, _Malfoy_," she spat. "Viktor had to leave in order to get ready for the Tournament. Now, go away!" She turned her face away, not wanting him to look at her tear-stained face any longer.

"Oh? Is that why you're weeping like a little first year? Poor Granger, Krum didn't get to stay with you through the Ball. What a pity." Malfoy mocked. "Move it, Granger. You're in my way." he said, an icy tone clearly laced in his voice.

Hermione growled and whipped around to look at him, her eyes blazed with fury and frustration. "I'm not going to move for you, Malfoy! Just leave me alone! Argh! First Ron…now you…" her voice cracked, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She hid her face behind her hands and trembled, trying to hold back her sobs.

Malfoy watched her quietly, not a single trace of emotion visible in his face. He had seen it all. He had seen her bicker with Ron about Krum, and heard their little spat. Throughout the Ball, his attention was focused on her, and only her. The moment when she walked in, dressed beautifully in her periwinkle blue robes with Krum on her side, he was stunned. His breath had been taken away and his heart fluttered. He ignored Pansy's whiny voice and let his pale eyes follow Hermione. By then, he wanted nothing more than to be in Krum's place, walking in to the Great Hall with her by his side…she in his arms as they waltzed on the floor as though they were gliding on an icy lake with everyone watching them…and have her look at his eyes and smile warmly at him…and dance wildly when the Weird Sisters were jamming their famous songs.

But alas, all he could ever do was watch. When he heard her ask Ron to _pluck up the courage_ and ask her to the ball, and _not at the last resort, _a sudden thought struck him. Could it be…that she wanted _Weasley _to ask her to the Ball? Did she really want to be dancing out there with him? No. She couldn't possibly. Who would want to dance with anyone wearing that dress robe that looked like someone had died in it? Next thing he knew, she was sitting on the stairs, her face buried in her palms, sobs leaking out as she covered the tears that were descending down her cheeks.

And here he was now, staring down at the crying girl silently. He didn't like seeing her this way. He liked it when she was feisty, always ready to throw a witty insult at him when he torments her in hallways or in class. But seeing her like this…so vulnerable…so weak…all because of Weasley…crying because of Weasley…it made his chest ache.

"Granger," he called out quietly. She tensed at his voice, and heard his footsteps as he descended down the stairs. Then he halted, his back facing hers. He was silent for a few good seconds before he spoke once more.

"Weasley is not worth it." he told her, then continued walking off, blending into the crowd.

Hermione stared after him, trying to process his words, then sighed tiredly, wiping her teary eyes with her knuckles. _'All I just wanted was for him to look at me…to see that I'm a girl…' _

Tears continued to roll down her cheeks, but she didn't bother wiping them, and simply sniffed. She looked at the crowd, seeing that some of them were still dancing, talking, or eating quietly. She sighed once more and glanced down. Something caught her sight from the corner of her eye and she glanced at it. It was a piece of cloth, neatly folded and resting near her foot.

"Hm? What's this?" she wondered and bent slightly to pick it up. She unfolded the cloth and her eyes widened.

'_A handkerchief?' _her eyes scanned the piece of cloth and she saw that an initial was embroidered elegantly on the corner, in gold thread. The initial was: _D.M. _

Hermione's hand clamped over her mouth in shock. Her eyes looked back at the crowd and searched around for a certain blond, only that he is nowhere to be found.

'_C-could it be…'_

_**A few days later…**_

Draco was strolling down a corridor when a voice shouted out for him.

"Malfoy! Wait!"

Draco halted and looked over his shoulder, and spotted a familiar Gryffindor with bushy hair jogging up to him. His brows rose up in surprise and confusion, and turned around to face the bushy-haired Gryffindor who had obviously been trying to catch up to him.

"Granger…" he muttered. Hermione was panting slightly, her cheeks tinged red due to all the hustle. When she finally caught her breath, she looked back at him and sighed in relief.

"I've been looking all over for you! Were you headed to lunch?" Hermione asked.

"Apparently so," Malfoy replied drily. "What do you want, Granger?"

"Oh, I just wanted to return something." Malfoy arched a blond brow.

"And what would that be?" he asked, confused. What could she possibly want from him that made her rush about? His question was about to be answered when she showed him a familiar piece of cloth neatly folded in her hand.

Ah.

Malfoy stared it for a few seconds, and then averted his gaze. "It's not mine." he said.

Hermione blanched. "W-Wha…are you daft?! It _is _yours! See," she unfolded the hanky. "Your initials are stitched right here!" she pointed at the gold letters.

Malfoy tried to hide his tense look behind a scowl. "I said it's not mine. It could belong to anyone—

He was cut off when she shoved the piece of cloth on his chest.

"It is yours, you pillock! You left it on the stairs!"

"Why you little—

"Why?"

Malfoy furrowed his brows at her sudden question. "Why what?"

"Why did you leave it there?" she looked into his eyes as awaited his answer. He was silent for a couple of seconds before he answered.

"I dropped it."

Hermione held his gaze, then narrowed her eyes.

"No. You haven't."

Draco sneered at her. "Yes. I did. I dropped it. You found it. Now you're returning it to me." he told her, trying to keep up an icy yet convincing tone. But Hermione was hardly convinced.

"No, you haven't. You're not fooling me, Malfoy! You definitely left it there!" she exclaimed hotly.

"And what makes you say that, little miss know-it-all?" Malfoy mocked, a bite was clear in his voice.

Hermione crossed her arms, her lips curving into a smug smile. "You wouldn't have denied that it belonged to you when I decided to return it. You're not fooling anyone here, Malfoy. Even a first year can figure that out."

Malfoy had been glaring at her as she spoke the truth in that bossy tone of hers. _'Filthy Mudblood…how dare she speak to me that way?!'_ he yelled in his head. He growled at her and clenched the handkerchief tightly in his fist.

"Fine! I left it there. What's it to you?!" he asked furiously.

"Why did you leave it there, Malfoy? I want to know!" Hermione exclaimed desperately.

"Ah, yes, you want to know. Because you definitely cannot survive without _knowing_, can you?" he sneered.

Hermione glared at him. "And you definitely cannot survive without being a pompous git!"

"Oh how nice of you, Mudblood. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm famished. I wouldn't want the likes of you to make me miss a decent meal." He spat and turned away. But Hermione would not let him go until she gets answers. And so, ignoring the insults he had just thrown at her, she grabbed onto the sleeves of his school robes roughly to make him face her. Gazing into his silver eyes seriously, she said, "I'm not letting you go until you answer my question, Malfoy."

Draco's eyes were wide at her boldness. He was just about to tell her to unhand him when she suddenly began to plead. "Please Malfoy… tell me why…" she breathed, looking at him. He could see her frustration in her eyes…those warm eyes… he locked his gaze with hers and he felt that he could melt for a minute there. And before he could even stop himself, he blurted out what was meant to be kept to him.

"You were crying." he said. "You were crying…It wasn't a nice thing to see…especially for someone like _Weasley_."

Hermione's lips parted in surprise as she stared up at him in shock. Draco shrugged the hand grasping his sleeve and sighed. Hermione bit her lip and looked down, not exactly knowing what to think. Why would Malfoy even care if she cried? Or who she cried for? Does he have a certain motive for showing this sort of behaviour? He certainly has ways of confusing her from time to time. One minute he is being vile and the next minute he speaks to her in the complete opposite way than usual.

"Tell me something, Granger."

She looked up at him and blinked. "Huh?"

"Why do you cry over him?" Draco asked her intensely.

Once more, she worried her bottom lip, and looked down at the floor as she wrung her hands, thinking of how to answer that question. She nearly forgot that this was Malfoy she was about to answer. The intensity in his voice really gave her the urge to tell him. Ron had never seen her as a girl…he only sees her as his bookworm best friend who helps Harry throughout most of the dangers along with him. But all she wanted was for him to see her as a girl. A girl worth asking to the Yule Ball. A girl…who is just worth it all. That's what she wanted Ron to see.

She twisted her hands nervously as her cheeks began to glow pink. And finally, she answered Malfoy's question, who was about to lash out impatiently about her being slow.

"I just…I only wished that Ron would've asked me to the Ball…I just wish he didn't see me as a plain old bookworm who enjoys studying in the library. I'm a girl too! I only… wanted Ron to look at me that way…I was expecting him to ask me ever since it had been announced…but then when he saw me with Krum as my date he started acting like a complete git because he thought I did something wrong when it was Krum who asked me to the Ball one day in the library…" Hermione began to ramble nervously with each answer without looking up at Malfoy, not willing to see his reaction.

Malfoy's eyes were wide as saucers. His jaw dropped as she rambled about Ron, Krum, the library.. He could not compose himself when she said that she wanted Ron to ask her to the Ball. He felt completely hollow on the inside. His eyes darkened and he clenched his handkerchief so tightly in his fist while he tried to compose himself. He clenched his jaw and glanced at the cloth in his hand.

'_Weasley…Granger did it all for the Weasel…' _

Staring at his initials, a sad glint in his eyes had flashed behind his blond lashes. He didn't realize Hermione had finished her nervous rant and was looking at him curiously now; with her cheeks were still flushed pink.

'_There is no place for me, after all. She would never realize it...'_

His fist trembled in anger, and he threw the handkerchief roughly on the ground. Hermione gasped at this, and bent down to pick it up. "W-what are you doing?!" she asked, and when she reached her hand to grab it, a foot stomped down on the cloth. She looked up at him in shock, and saw him looking down his nose at her, malice and disdain visible in his features.

"Leave it there, Granger. Your filthy hands no longer needs to soil it." he said coldly.

Hurt flickered in Hermione's features, and she stood up, brushing the dirt from her skirt. She narrowed her eyes coldly at the blond, no longer going to tolerate his cruel actions towards her. "Is that so? Fine then. If that is how you want to be, Malfoy, so be it." she walked passed him, and then stopped and turned to look at him, and he was looking at her in return with no trace of emotion shown.

"I just wish that you would stop confusing me…by all means, I would gladly stay out of your way if that's how you think of me. Filthy. But have you looked at the way you've treated people other than me? You're worse. Much more vile than you're deemed to be. And if that's how you want to go on, that is how you'll remain to be."

She turned on her heels and walked away, no longer looking back. Malfoy watched her take a turn in the corridor. The hall was empty, but the cold tension had not left. Pain was now visible in his features as he stared after her. Malfoy felt rigid as she spoke those words. He looked down at the fallen cloth being crushed by the weight of his shoe and smirked humourlessly.

'_I know now…no matter what I do, there will never be a chance for me. Because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve Granger's kindness and compassion. I don't deserve her at all. I cannot have her…at all.' _

_**Fin**_

**Author's Notes: How about that, huh? This is what I think happened after the Ball. My first one-shot, everyone. What do you think? Not too happy, I know. I always wanted to write a Dramione fic, but I never had the chance, and this is my first time haha. I hope you guys enjoyed(?) and if you liked it, then I can be inspired to write another one that's probably going to be a happy one.**

**Honestly, I love happy endings! So I can try writing a happy Dramione if you liked this! **

**Till then, cheers! **

_**silverdagger10**_


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